Beyond the Abysses
by Quantum Witch
Summary: 2012 \\ What happened after 'Cas is, hmm, he's gone. He's… dead. We run the show now...'.


**BEYOND THE ABYSSES**

_ a Supernatural fanfic © 2011_ _quantum witch_**  
**

**Rating/genre_:_** PG13, drama  
**Warning:** violent imagery, mental illness_  
_**Spoilers:** S7x01-02, and hinting at 7x17  
**Character(s):** Castiel, OMC  
**Summary:** What happened after 'Cas_ is, hmm, he's gone. He's… dead. We run the show now...'._  
**Notes:** Thanks to **wanderamaranth,** as always, for inspiration and a swift beta. The quotes are from "Waking Dreams" and "The Graveyard" by M. Stefan Strozier's book "Schizophrenia Poetry".

* * *

_Here,_  
_Follow me_  
_This is the place_  
_Beyond the abysses_  
_I see clearly through fogs_  
_Where backwater channels_  
_Struggling against time_  
_And cosmic forces_  
_Desire not sleep_

**o .. o .. o  
**

They were so strong… how could anything be that strong?

Bloody teeth and claws ripping into him, tearing his essence to shreds… the pieces of himself howling in agony… thrashing against the tidal wave of black ooze… white light bleeding away… swallowed by the dark… drowning in cold…

He was left floating in nothingness. Ragged, weightless, helpless, the ebb and flow of space carrying him further from wherever he'd been.

Perhaps he would eventually cease to be. There had been others times he'd been ended, finished, gone. Those times had lacked all sensation. Somehow this time he retained the barest awareness of self. Perhaps that meant he wouldn't disappear.

But who and what he used to be was growing harder to remember.

The push and pull of unseen waves carried him… drifting far from his… home… far… from…

Exhaustion consumed him, and all thought faded away.

** o .. o .. o**

A flicker of warmth cut through the coldness, its suddenness almost scalding.

Vague awareness returned and instinct made him reach out to the warmth. It touched back.

Something there… comforting… safe… and familiar. Felt almost like… home?

He pressed at a membrane of some kind, gave a plaintive plea for entry, for sanctuary… and was enveloped…

**o .. o .. o  
**

He didn't often wake screaming from nightmares anymore. He'd had so many they all blended together sometimes. This one had felt very personal and intense at first then faded to remoteness, just before the last push to consciousness.

Opening his eyes, the man looked around at the sterile whiteness of the room he'd lived in for… a while now. He'd lost count of time. Not that it mattered.

The lights were coming up now, everyone waking and the staff telling them it was time for breakfast. He shuffled out of bed and into his bathroom, wanting a shower before they gave him morning meds.

His mind kept wandering back to the dream. There was an odd, alien sensation to it, leaving him disoriented even now. Maybe it was something he should write in his journal… No, it would just wind up being something else they'd want to analyze. He was tired of being picked apart. And more often than not, whatever was in his head was something they didn't think ought to be there in the first place.

He stood before the sink, brushing his teeth, staring at his face with its tousled dark hair and stubbled jaw. It was the same old face.

Or nearly so. Something there. Something _new_.

Leaning forward, all but pressing his nose against the mirror, he stared unblinking into his eyes. Blue as the sky. _Blue as heaven_, he'd been told once, but by whom he couldn't recall. And now it felt like there was more than one pair of eyes looking at him. Maybe it was just the mirror's own eyes.

Or eyes that belonged to someone else inside his head.

A flash of memory hit him like cold water –

_- purgatory – souls – God – blasphemers – destruction – blood – fire – death – pain – leviathans – _

He staggered backward and held onto the sink, breathing hard.

The memories trickled through his mind now instead of a flood. He saw and felt each one, remotely. They were his.. but _not_. A different lifetime. Another self.

An angel. _He'd been an angel._ Once. What was he now? Something that was just a shell of itself, a scrap of tattered… grace?

_And the things he'd done..._

"It's okay," he whispered to the reflection in the mirror. "I know. It's okay…"

** o .. o .. o  
**

It had been months since he heard from Amelia.

She'd called only because of what happened with Jimmy, or what _appeared_ to be Jimmy on the TV news. The staff had had to separate him from the other patients, some of whom had screamed in fear when they saw the reports. It was hard not to be confused, sharing a face with a mass murderer. Being an identical twin had never been easy, but this was something else entirely.

She'd cried too, apologizing for never believing. His delusions had always been stronger than Jimmy's, driving him into the hospital more than a decade ago. Medication kept most of the visions and voices at bay now. Jimmy had been taking some of the same medication as he did… but it hadn't prevented an angel from stealing his brother away.

_A real angel._ He'd been almost envious. If his own imaginings had been able to manifest, then he might've flown far away as well.

Having seen the video of whatever wore his brother's skin, he could tell Jimmy was no longer in there. That was a small mercy, anyway.

And now he wondered if he ought to try contacting Amelia again. No, she hadn't given him a number. She and Claire – the niece he'd never gotten a chance to meet – were in hiding. Was _he_ safe? It probably didn't matter.

And he certainly didn't need to feel envious anymore.

The memories he now had… those weren't his, but _the angel's_. The angel had made terrible mistakes, gone down deadly paths, let horrible things happen to those it loved… And it had suffered enough. The poor battered thing had crawled up to his brain looking for help. It had thought him to be Jimmy, and he supposed being a twin was close enough to fool a creature so confused, lost and hurt. So he'd allowed it to come inside.

He now played vessel to himself, in a way. Merely a man on the outside, pretending to be alone in his head, while the broken angel Castiel was harbored safely away in the chemical haze.

** o .. o .. o**

_Here's a lunatic; yet, perhaps only truth survives; for, where are your words?  
This is one more question: evil truth; are humans a thing of God's words…?  
Down icy waters I drown, driven mad by sounds  
And, freezing cold, now my heart, ever-slower pounds_


End file.
